


Where There's Smoke....

by TheAngryAssassin (GetOutOFMyTreeNovice)



Series: Where There's Smoke [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Altair is young dumb and full of..... you know ;), Altair learns the power of pheremones, First Time (sort of), M/M, Malik learns the power of idiots, Mentions of Blood, Minor Violence, Novices being shits to eachother, Novices!, On their first mission, So no actual sex happens yet, internal homophobia (minor), just some grinding, some masturbating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 20:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11021205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetOutOFMyTreeNovice/pseuds/TheAngryAssassin
Summary: Part 1 of a probably 2 part series. I'll change it if it gets to be more, but it probably won't.Everything is Permitted.. Right?





	Where There's Smoke....

Where There's Smoke..

 

Altair was lacing up his boots irritably as he got ready for his mission. It was his first one with just one other novice like himself and it was a perfect time for him to show off his skills and show the Master how he really was better than everyone else in his age group. Unfortunately, he was paired with Malik, an angry boy who's words sometimes hurt more than his fists. Malik was at the top of their class too and was Altair's unspoken rival. 

Altair sighed and dropped back onto his pallet. He didn't want to spend so much time alone with Malik. He was sure it would be time wasted, as they would surely fight. Two weeks. Altair sighed again. He wasn't ready. He could lay out sharp quips as fast as Malik could, but that wasn't the problem. The root lay in his pants. Being around his rival made his skin itch and flush red with excitement, even if his brain wanted nothing to do with it. It was wrong. Disgusting, even. 

“Everything is permitted,” he muttered humorlessly to himself as he got up and pushed through his door, making his way to Al Mualim and Malik. 

 

He swayed in his spot as the Master outlined their mission. It was boring listening to him drone on, so Altair's attention drifted to a more interesting subject: Malik. The boy was standing straight, looking forward; his posture was very good. His eyes flicked side to side as if memorizing everything Al Mualim was telling him, what a nerd. Altair's brain just fucking stopped when Malik's tongue darted out to lick his lips and he could feel his heart speed up. 

Altair refocused back onto Al Mualim. Boring, droning. His heartrate calmed down. He anxiously shifted from one foot to the other. He couldn't pay attention when Malik was standing there looking so good in his robes. Altair didn't know why he was so aware of him, even when he wasn't looking at Malik, but he could sense the other boy there and his skin prickled. 

Al Mualim handed something to Malik and the boy nodded. They were saying something, but it was all lost to Altair, his focus was gone. He hated how easily Malik could mess him up. 

Malik looked at him and Altair stared back, not comprehending that Malik was saying something until the boy got mad at him. “Are you listening? Let's go, you idiot.” 

“I'm not an idiot,” Altair snarled back, following him as Malik departed their Master's quarters quickly. Malik frowned back at him. 

“Maybe you should pay attention to when people speak to you and they would not think you were an idiot.” Malik's frame was slightly wider than his own and Altair was distracted again by his body. 

“Maybe if you had something interesting to say, I would listen.” Altair drawled, moving up close to snatch the scroll Malik held in his hand away from him and dart away as Malik growled and came after him. 

“Give it back! He gave it to me!” Malik yelled as he chased Altair down the hall. Altair was faster though, and he didn't have any chance of catching him. Malik charged a bit like a bull, low to the ground so that when he got to his target, the hit would be harder and heavier. Altair's seen it in action before and he didn't intend to let it happen to him. That didn't stop him from taunting Malik though, dancing in little circles because he could dart away fast enough even if Malik decided to speed up last minute. 

“Are you really this slow? I can't imagine you don't get a switch for running this slow.” Altair laughed back at him. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and Malik was right there, his angry face flushed as he did his signature arm sweep around Altair's waist, his solid chest hitting Altair's back hard enough to knock the wind out of him as they both fell to the ground. Altair took a minute to catch his breath, but by then, Malik was already in possession of the scroll again with a smug look on his face. He did not get off of Altair. Rather, he sat on his back. Altair didn't move just in case there was a chance he'd feel something. He held his breath, worried his body may betray him with Malik being so close. 

“Oh? Are you done gloating now? Are we ready to grow up some and stop being a child?” Malik prodded Altair's spine. 

“Just shut up and get off me. Isn't it enough you won once?” Altair sneered, moving his hands under him to roll, trying to shake Malik off him. It didn't work, however, and landed him in a more precarious position than before because Malik knows how to redistribute his weight. Altair stared up at him, his heart fluttering, unable to move because Malik was pinning his hands above his head and was straddling his hips. Altair felt his dick throb a little and he panicked. “Get off.” He bucked, wrestling his hands away from Malik and moving his knees up to help throw him off. 

“Hey! You two, stop fighting!” a voice behind them startled them both and Malik finally ceased. Altair dropped his head back on the floor in relief and then stood up. It was one of the swordsmasters that Altair kept forgetting the name of. He gave them a tongue lashing and threatened to give them a real one if they kept it up. They both apologized and he walked off when he was satisfied with how sorry they looked. 

Altair heaved out a heavy sigh. “His breath always smells like onions.” He grimaced as they walked to the stables together. Malik snorted. 

“I actually think it may be his clothes. He made our class wash them once as a punishment and they smelled like onions.” Malik said. Altair made a rude gesture and Malik laughed. Altair smiled slightly. His secret was safe. It would be fine. It's fine. 

 

They were on the road after a ridiculous two hours of preparation. Malik was meticulous; he didn't know how to pack light. All Altair needed was clothes, weapons, and food. Sometimes he didn't need even that. Just weapons. But Malik insisted that they needed things like bedrolls, tents, and other unnecessary things. Altair could sleep on the ground just fine. It was the warm season, so blankets weren't necessary and neither are tents. 

Altair was tired as soon as he got onto his horse. It was a dappled gray. He wound his hand into it's mane for comfort and relaxed into the saddle. He watched Malik load his things onto his black horse and felt a little pity for the poor beast. But Malik insisted that he bring a bedroll and a tent, even if Altair told him they weren't necessary. So if the horse gets worn out before Altair's does, that's not his fault. 

They set off at a relatively fast pace, since they started late. They would get to Damascus tomorrow, but they'd get a good amount of distance tonight anyway. They traded barbs along the way as the usually did, but there was no one to stop it this time if they got particularly nasty. Altair predicted that once they dismounted, there would be fists thrown. He wasn't all that upset about it. Fighting Malik was one of the few pleasures in life. 

“It's getting dark, we should set up camp soon.” Malik said. His tone said 'You're getting on my nerves, I want to punch your nose in'. Altair wanted to goad him a little longer. 

“Let's go a bit further, there's trees to hide in up ahead.” Malik made a face and it gave Altair such sweet satisfaction. Making Malik angry was his favorite game. 

“It better be close.” the edge to his voice made Altair's heart jump. 

“It is.” It wasn't. There were no trees for miles. He glanced over at Malik. Malik was squinting at the horizon. Altair bit his lip. 

“Are you lying just to make me angry? Because I don't see one damn tree-” Malik stopped when he looked over at Altair, his face a picture of disbelief. “Are you getting off on this or something? You look fucking gleeful.” He looked disgusted. He should, Altair reminded himself. Altair trained his face back into a wolfish smile. 

“It's just so entertaining to watch you get so worked up.” Malik glared at him. 

“We're stopping here.” He didn't give Altair time to respond, he just stopped his horse and slid off it. Altair did the same and started to unsaddle his horse when he felt the back of his neck prickle. He looked over his shoulder. Malik was hovering very close to him. Altair's body flared up and he tried to think of anything that would stop his body from reacting so strongly to him. 

“W-what?” Altair hated himself for stuttering, he hated showing any sign that his counterpart had an effect on him. Malik narrowed his eyes. 

“What has been with you? You've been acting like you're afraid of me, and I know for a fact you're not afraid of a damned thing.” Malik stared at him unwaveringly. Altair's heart was about to come out of his chest and he dared not turn around. 

“Nothing. There's nothing wrong. I don't know what you're talking about.” Altair met his eyes and held his breath. Malik reached up with his hand and Altair flinched away. The hand turned into a fist and Malik snarled. 

“You can't tell me there's nothing wrong when you do that! We can't do this mission right if you don't trust me.” Malik said. Altair blinked. Right. The mission. The mission; the brotherhood was the priority. Not his shameful feelings. Altair just nodded. 

“Let's fight and get it over with then.” Altair said, finally turning to face him. His body reacted, but he fought it down. Malik wasted no time and slammed a heavy fist into Altair's face. The horse behind him spooked a bit and shied away while Altair groaned and held his nose. He glared at Malik and went after him, swinging at him with his fists that were stained with his own blood. 

 

“Oof.” Altair said as he dropped onto the ground, panting. Malik sat beside him, panting just as hard. They were bloody and sore from their fight, but the tension was gone and Altair felt better. He took in a breath and let it out slow, taking a look at Malik. His breath stopped. Malik was sitting back on his hands, his head tilted back with his eyes closed and his mouth open slightly. Altair stared. Malik's bared neck, his strong chin, his robes that gaped a bit from their fight, baring a bit of his chest that was covered in hair and sweat. Oh no. 

“What is it now?” Malik said irritably, his eyes open now and glaring at him. He was tired, but not enough to keep him from getting angry. Altair sighed. He was too tired to fight his body. 

“Nothing, I didn't say anything, did I? I just want to sleep.” Altair closed his eyes and stretched out, yawning. His answer seemed to sate Malik for the time being. He heard Malik move and he opened his eyes. Malik was going to set up his bedroll and tent. Altair couldn't believe it. He groaned. “Just sleep on the ground like the rest of us. You act so spoiled.” 

“And if it rains? I'll be dry and warm. You'll be wet and cold and your muscles won't thank you for that. Things like this effect your performance during a mission. You should take care of your body when you are able to.” Malik said indignantly. Altair sneered. 

“It's the warm season. It's not going to rain. And the sky has been clear for days.” Malik shrugged. 

“It also keeps out the wind.” 

“It's a waste of time and effort.” Altair said, turning over on his pile of dirt. He heard Malik put up his tent and he huffed, already dozing off. 

He awoke cold. He rubbed his arms in an effort to warm himself, but it was no use. The wind cut right through him. He shivered and rolled over to look at Malik's stupid tent. He wondered if he could wake up early enough to sneak out so Malik wouldn't be able to gloat at him for being right. He blinked when he saw Malik come out of his tent and stand outside of it, arms folded in front of his chest, grimace on his face. He gestured with his head to come into the tent and Altair didn't argue, lifting his shivering body up to follow him in. 

He was right. It did cut out the wind quite a bit. But it wasn't going to be much warmer in here than outside, even with the wind cut out. Altair felt stupid for not having his own bedroll. Malik laid down in his and looked at him expectantly. Altair flushed. Oh. 

“No, I think I'll freeze to death, it's fine.” Altair fled the tent. Malik came charging after him, hot tempered as ever, and pulled him back to the tent. 

“I don't care how much you hate me, I have a mission with you tomorrow, you cannot freeze to death. You're going to sleep in the same bedroll as me whether you like it or not. We're just sharing body heat. It's cold. Assassins have to do things they don't like to survive. Don't be stupid.” Malik said. Altair barely paid attention to what he said because Malik was holding his hand. Fingers interlaced with his. It short circuited his brain long enough for Malik to get him back into the tent and Altair just stood there dumbly as Malik climbed back into his bedroll, clearly annoyed. “Get in.” 

“But,”

“Just get in. Don't make this difficult.” He sighed, giving Altair a look. Altair frowned, but got down and crawled into the bedroll with Malik. It was a tight fit, but he managed to get in if he was facing towards or away from Malik on his side. He chose away for obvious reasons. But Malik was curled around him, pressed close against his back. Altair tried very hard to not think about the part of his anatomy that was pushed up against his ass. 

He couldn't sleep. Malik was passed out, an arm slung over Altair's waist. But every slight movement Altair made ended with his ass rubbing against Malik's very hard, very big member that Altair couldn't get away from. And the feeling made Altair pitifully turned on. He let out a small whine when he couldn't move or squirm with discomfort and suddenly Malik went very still. Altair evened out his breathing so it would seem like he was sleeping. He closed his eyes and tried not to shiver when Malik's breath fell on the back of his neck. Especially when his breath was heavy and hot. Altair's dick twitched. He swallowed. 

Malik's arm that was around his waist tightened around him and pulled him closer. It was a great effort not to react to him when the effect Malik was having on him was dizzying. Malik buried his face in the back of Altair's neck and ground lightly into his ass. Altair almost lost his fucking mind and nearly came in his pants right then and there, but he had more self control than that. He needed to see where this would go. What Malik would do. He knew his breathing rhythm was messed up, but his cock was so hard he was leaking. Another grind of his hips and Altair let out a quiet whimper. Altair bit his lip so hard it bled, but Malik didn't seem to notice. He wondered, vaguely for a frightening minute, if Malik knew that he was awake, but he quickly pushed that idea out of his mind. That was just hopeful thinking. 

Malik kept the slow grinding up, his breathing on Altair's neck was hard and hot and his hand was clutching onto the front of Altair's robes like he'd die if he let go. Altair's brain was mush and he felt himself grinding back, panting and reaching down to wrap his hand around his own dick for some relief, feeling hot despite the cold. He felt Malik tense and a long shudder ran up Altair's whole body, his hips jerking as he came with a whine. He thought he heard Malik make some sort of sound, but he was already falling asleep. 

 

When Altair awoke, Malik was already gone. If not for the mess in his pants, he would have thought that last night's events were a dream. But the evidence was there and Altair flushed, glad that he had a spare pair in his pack. He sat up and stretched, then blinked when he saw his things in the tent. Malik must have brought them inside. He was thankful as he stripped down and changed into his clean clothes, making a note to wash his dirty ones when he got the chance. 

He ducked out of the tent to meet Malik's eyes as he sat at the fire he made, a skewer in hand. Altair briefly recalled that hand being the one that Malik was clutching at him with, but he shoved the thought violently away. He wouldn't say anything if Malik didn't bring it up. 

“Hungry? I've got a couple hare ready.” He gestured to the sticks with skewered bits of meat on them. They were a little burnt, but no one really cared if Malik was kinda bad at cooking because he enjoyed getting up early to do it. Altair sat down across from him and took a skewer. Although burnt, they tasted good still. Altair took his time eating, going over the night before in his head. He glanced up at Malik, but he was focused on his skewer. 

After they finished eating, they were back on their horses. It took a lot less time for Malik to pack up than Altair thought it would, but he was pleasantly surprised.

“You're quiet today, did you lose the will to taunt me after having to sleep in my bedroll?” Malik said unhappily. Altair blinked. So he won't bring it up. That's just fine with him. 

“I'm just tired. I'm sure having my ass bumped around for a while will wake me up.” Altair choked when he realized what he said and Malik blinked at him, the tips of his ears going a little red. Altair stared at him for a moment. Oh. He's just as embarrassed about it as Altair is. His heart was racing. He might poke at that anthill after their mission.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know how it was! It's been a loooong while since I last wrote for other humans, so I might be a bit rusty.


End file.
